May 20, 2011

(via myconceptofperfect-deactivated2)

6:13pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z0smnx5IPkaL
(Notes: 110)
  
May 15, 2011

youwishgoldfish:

This movie.

(Source: acleanroom)

4:07pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z0smnx592Ecx
(Notes: 2)
  
May 15, 2011
happyandinshape: canyaworrrkit: Save your life! This couldn’t be more true.

happyandinshape:

canyaworrrkit:

Save your life!

This couldn’t be more true.

4:06pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z0smnx592D4M
(Notes: 1,009)
  
May 15, 2011

(via eclecticthreads)

4:06pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z0smnx592A_F
(Notes: 76)
  
May 15, 2011

(Source: twentytwocandles)

4:06pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z0smnx5929VD
(Notes: 35)
  
May 15, 2011
here is the deepest secret nobody knows

head-bitchh-in-charge:

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which gros

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart


i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

- e.e. cummings

(Source: ihatenoseyassholes)

4:06pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z0smnx5927OL
(Notes: 7)
  
May 15, 2011
"

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

— Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

"

— One Art (Elizabeth Bishop)

(Source: iseeyoufromthesky)

4:06pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z0smnx5926Q6
(Notes: 10)
  
May 15, 2011
"

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.

"

— Let Evening Come by Jane Kenyon (via butmaurine)

4:06pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z0smnx5925fO
(Notes: 2)